Taking Baby From A Candy
by kyleisgod
Summary: Cartman and Wendy have given birth, but can't agree on what to name their daughter. The result? Total destruction! CartmanxWendy, ButtersxLexus, Kenny (as Mysterion) x Butters if you choose to see that, and Kenny (as Mysterion) x Cartman if you choose to see that.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park.

Rated M for language, violence, and possibly sex being had.

Author's Notes: This oneshot (possibly a twoshot or longer since I had even more fun with this universe than I'd originally anticipated) is the result of a combination of lack of sleep, a celebration of the new South Park season beginning, and a ridiculous conversation with my fellow FFN author theshadowswhisper, without whom this story wouldn't have been possible. Enjoy and review!

/

"DIVORCE!"

The word hung in the air even after its speaker had loudly slammed the front door on his way out. Divorce was a powerful word whose utterance made fifty-two percent of couples shudder. It forced unwanted memories of failed relationships to spring to the forefront of regretful minds, leading to many apologetic late-night drunken phone calls with exes on Valentines Day. The remaining forty-eight percent of supposedly happy couples hoped they'd never have to hear nor speak the word, lest their entire universe implode around them. In this case however, divorce was nothing more than an empty threat which made Wendy Testaburger yawn with disinterest. Now that things had settled down Wendy couldn't even remember how the fight had escalated to the point of Cartman threatening a divorce. Then again, how did a winning debate club celebratory screw in the backseat of her prius escalate into a marriage? They were a unique breed to be sure.

The fact was Cartman never followed through with his plans to leave Wendy, and she knew he never would. If he did, she'd hunt him down like a dog and drag him back to the house by his balls. Cartman knew as much, though he'd never admit it out loud, so in the end he always came home voluntarily. Wendy had the routine memorized by this point in their relationship. Eric would go to Butters Stotch's apartment, since Butters was the only friend willing to take Cartman in for the night. Cartman would blow off some steam by talking about what a huge bitch he had mistakenly married, then come home and eventually give Wendy make up sex that would be even louder than their original fight. She knew it was louder thanks to police reports filed by very displeased neighbors. They claimed to not like loud noises at two AM, but Cartman theorized they were simply just jealous that other people were getting laid. Thankfully Cartman and Wendy didn't have to deal with the unhappy neighbors for very long. Once Wendy and Cartman's daughter was born and began crying at random hours on top of the fighting and sex sounds, the neighbors had enough and put up a For Sale sign.

The baby was actually the subject of their latest fight. Specifically, the fact that each parent still referred to their daughter as "The Baby" despite her being two months old. Naming one's child was, like all newborn baby myths, supposed to be a magical event. It wasn't. It was Hell on earth. Eventually the child would start school. Have a first birthday party. Make friends who would ask her goddamn name. Those inevitable life events meant that as good parents they needed to have a name picked out as soon as possible. A respectable name that the other children couldn't easily make fun of. That much the parents agreed on, but it was also the only thing Wendy and Cartman agreed on. Not just when it came to their offspring, but in general. As Wendy nursed the unnamed Baby, she began counting the time until Cartman would eventually come home.

/

"So I said 'What's wrong with Erica?'. She refused to name it after me. The fuck? I'm the dad, aren't I?!"

Butters nodded politely; letting Eric ramble on. "Uh-huh." Butters poured himself and Cartman another round of tea. Butters didn't want to be rude by abandoning a friend in need, but he hoped the tea would knock Cartman out sooner than later. It was getting quite late and he'd heard about this same problem last month. And after Wendy had conceived. And after they learned it was a girl. And a month before the baby had been born.

"So then she says we should name it Hilary. Like I'm letting _my_ daughter be named after a friggin' Clinton! Then Wendy says 'Oh so now she's _your_ daughter.' and starts whining about morning sickness and breast feeding and pushing it out. I swear to God, I should've never married that bitch! I'm gonna leave, Butters. I swear bro. I'm gonna do it this time."

"Is that why you didn't pack anything when you came over here?"

Cartman glared at Butters for passive-aggressively questioning his resolve to stay away from his supposedly horrible wife. "I just have to go home first to get my shit! I wasn't _planning_ to leave tonight! It's not _my_ fault Wendy gets like this every month."

"Right, it's Eve's fault for eatin' that apple in the Garden of Eden. God got angry and made ladies vaginas bleed, and said they could only make seventy percent of what a man does in the workplace."

"That's right."

Butters hadn't actually learned his Biblical or world histories from Cartman, but he was familiar with Eric's theories on the world's major events. He couldn't un-learn Eric's theories no matter how hard he tried to. Mostly, the Jews were responsible for a lot of horrible things. Including the Holocaust, somehow. Butters nervously mashed his knuckles together as he pondered whether or not to make his next statement. "Eric, you-you realize you can't go calling her 'Baby' forever, right?"

"I won't have to. It's only a matter of time before Wendy caves on this."

"Well, I'm gettin' awfully worried your baby's first word is gonna be 'Bitch' if you two don't simmer down. I was thinkin' maybe I could babysit Baby for a while. You know, give you and Wendy some time to really sit down and think about the name. It must be real stressful trying to plan anything with a new kid around."

Cartman sipped his tea; considering the offer. "A babysitter? ...That'd be pretty kewl." What parent couldn't use one of those?

For that matter, what child of Cartman and Wendy didn't _deserve_ a babysitter?

/

Butters softly sang a lullaby to the still-unnamed child while tucking Baby in for the evening. His version of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" morphed into a bad karaoke of Chicago's "If You Leave Me Now", but Baby didn't seem to mind. The song was interrupted when, from the living room, Cartman and Wendy could be heard bickering once again. Something made of glass was audibly thrown at someone else's head. The glass broke; Butters wasn't sure about the fate of the head. The couple swore overtop of each other as if the loudest one in the room would automatically win the argument. Baby name suggestions blended in with increasingly colorful curse words. Butters cringed. Both his hands quickly shot out to cover Baby's virgin ears; hoping to keep the dirty words out of her future lexicon. The child giggled at Butters' hands on her ears. She touched his hands with her own. Played with them. Put Butters' fingers into her mouth, which meant he'd likely have a cold tomorrow, but Butters didn't interrupt Baby's fun even though it left her ears exposed to her parents' fighting.

"Bettybell is a mashup name of two of the most famous feminists of all time! If you _read_ more you might know that! I don't _want_ our child to have some normal, forgettable name! She needs to stand out in this world and grab attention as a proud female leader!"

Cartman nearly laughed himself into hysterics. "We are not naming our child after two ladies permanently on their periods, and my daughter is not gonna be some bra-burning feminazi. Fuck you, pick something else."

"Dawkins."

"No way! Wendy I'm seriously, you better stop with these shitty names or I'll tie your tubes myself just so you can't torture any more innocent children!"

"Then _you_ pick something, you lazy fuck!"

"Fine! She'll be Poly!"

"No! Fuck you; we are not naming her after a _doll_! She is a person! Stop objectifying her!"

"Candy. You want a mashup name? There! It's Cartman and Wendy put together."

"Ugh! _Really_? You want to name our daughter 'Candy'? Christ, why don't we just buy her the stripper pole _now_!"

"Oh right because 'Baby' is much better!"

"That wouldn't _be_ her name if your name suggestions didn't suck!"

"It's not my fault you want to name our kid after some British asshole!"

"Richard Dawkins is not British!"

"HE MAY AS WELL BE, CUNT!"

"DON'T CALL ME A CUNT, YOU ASSHOLE!"

"DON'T CALL ME AN ASSHOLE, YOU CUNT! Little Erica will NOT be named after some pretentious atheist douchebag, who was a GUY by the way!"

"WE ARE NOT NAMING OUR CHILD AFTER _YOU_! OVER MY DEAD GODDAMN BODY!"

"I CAN MAKE THAT HAPPEN!"

"THE HELL YOU CAN!"

A loud crash followed. The sound of a repetitious _thwack_ momentarily concerned Butters, until he determined it wasn't punches being thrown. It sounded more like a pillow fight. Maybe foam padded weaponry being dueled with. Something soft enough to work out aggression with but not dangerous enough to cause injury. Likely suggested to them by a therapist, Butters thought. A therapist they'd probably retired before he'd 'cured' them. Then, there was nothing but moments of sweet, much-needed silence. Butters knew he couldn't have taken listening to much more of that. Now, he guessed, they were probably screwing. Or strangling each other. Or both. Butters was honestly unsure which scenario would be worse for him to walk in on.

He sighed. "Baby? I don't know about you, but I'm gettin' pretty sick of those two doing this." He tried desperately to drown out his own conscience. It was screaming at him louder than the married couple had been at each other to take some kind of action. It wasn't his place to get involved, he told himself. He was just the babysitter. Just Uncle Butters or whatever title they'd give him. He'd wait for Baby to fall asleep, and then leave out the backdoor so as not to get caught in the middle of Eric and Wendy. If he were, there was a chance Eric would insist on a ride to Butters' place and keep him up half the night complaining about the woman he'd just go back to again and again no matter what.

"Butters."

Baby's first word.

It made sense. She'd heard his name quite a bit over the past month. Wendy's polite "Thank you for watching Baby, Butters." at the end of every other night's babysitting service, to Cartman's less-than-polite "Fuck you, Butters." for seemingly no reason at all. In that time Butters had also grown quite attached to the anonymous girl. It was sad, really. Baby's first word had been "Butters", and her actual parents missed it due to in-fighting. Perhaps the name drop was coincidence. Perhaps it was fate. Perhaps divine intervention. Regardless, Butters accepted it as the sign he had been silently hoping to receive.

A sign to take some action.

/

Butters wrapped Baby in her favorite blue blanket. He stuffed as many of her toys as he could into his pockets, then grabbed an extra pillow case. With Baby held carefully in his arms, Butters crept down the hallway along the nearest wall. He reached the couple's bedroom. Thankfully, they weren't using it. That meant the fight and/or sex was continuing in the living room. Good, Butters thought. That meant he, and now Baby, could still escape out the back. Butters went into the couple's shared closet and grabbed one of Eric's coats, along with the knife he knew Cartman kept concealed in a compartment of his pajamas. Whether that was to protect himself against home invaders or against his own wife, Butters wasn't sure. Likewise, Wendy appeared to have a bullet-proof kevlar vest on the inside of her PJs. Perhaps those two really did deserve each other. Butters used the knife to poke holes in his pillow case, which he then dawned as a face mask. The large jacket acted as an oversized, extra warm coat for he and Baby against the winter cold outside. As he slipped out, Butters could hear the couple in the distance. He still wasn't sure if they were fighting or fucking. Butters realized too late that perhaps he should've taken Wendy's vest too, because those nutjobs were going to _kill_ him when they found out Baby was missing.

/

"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

The stained glass church windows were bright and noticeable even after hours. The prayer and associated hand motions Butters had easily performed from childhood memory. Using his finger, Butters carefully placed just a small drop of holy water from the church's fountain onto Baby's forehead. Now came the hard part. What _was_ a good name for Baby? Butters was quickly beginning to understand why Wendy and Eric had tormented over this decision for the past year. Whatever name he picked was going to stick with Baby the rest of her life. It couldn't be decided flippantly. He also couldn't spend the next year fighting about it like her parents had. It had to be something pretty. Something happy. Something wonderful. Something that, when Butters heard it, he would light up like a Christmas tree and others would do the same. Butters rattled off a few names in his mind as he paced around Baby, but nothing gave him the warm fuzzies he'd planned to use as an indicator of a good name.

Love. Love was pretty and wonderful, and it made most everyone happier, better people once they had it in their lives. "Love" wasn't quite right for a newborn's name, but Butters was glad that he was at least getting warmer. What was something he loved? Sunshine? Rainbows? Kittens? The Denver Broncos? "No." Butters told himself out loud. "Come on Butters, you can do this!" he encouraged. "It has to be a lady's name. Something nice." Linda, after his mother? No. If Baby were going to be named after a family member it should logically be one of her own relatives who got the honor, and Butters knew that Wendy had long ago objected to Lianne due to Eric's mother's reputation around town. So who did Butters love besides the women in his family?

Lexus.

For better or worse, she was Butters' first love. And, like anyone's first love, she was unforgettable. The way she looked the first time he had seen her. The way she walked and talked. The way she smelled; like a mixture of over-sauced fried chicken wings and expensive scented perfume. The girl still to this day gave Butters butterflies and embarrassing erections without even trying. Not a day passed that he didn't wonder what she was doing, usually leading to unsuccessful Facebook stalking since Lexus didn't update her status often enough. Butters hoped for the best for the one he loved and would always love, no matter what. It was that type of sentiment, one that he knew Wendy and Cartman shared for Baby, which made Butters' decision clear.

"Lord? Uh, I hereby christen this baby, Lexi." There was only one Lexus in South Park. Butters knew that better than anyone. He'd checked records. 'Lexi' was close enough though, and that name was less likely to be voted down by Eric or Wendy. The Lexus name would have been, since she also had a reputation. One which Butters chose to believe was mostly lies and propaganda spread by bitter ex-boyfriends with small peckers.

/

Butters and the newly-named Lexi didn't even get the chance to make it home. While exiting the church a shadowy figure swooped down in front of them, blocking the path to Butters' car. Butters attempted to not let his fear show if only for the child's sake. He forced himself to stand firm and not shake, because again, that would've been bad for the baby. Butters squinted through the blackness, attempting to make out who or what was in his way.

"...Mysterion?"

The Mysterion outfit was still the same colors, but years of patrol had made the costume larger to support the well-toned frame of its inhabitant. There had also been a few significant modifications to the design. For one, the entire outfit was a proper, official latex material. The cowl now came with a built-in generic wig to help avoid clues as to Mysterion's true identity. Most South Park residents were already aware of who was behind the mask, but better safe than sorry. A bullet-proof vest behind the outfit's top protected vital organs, and the simple black belt from childhood had been traded in for a proper utility belt containing tools of self-defense, portable food when necessary, and first-aid materials. The olive green gloves were replaced by military tactile gloves. Mysterion had made sure they'd remained the original color. Lastly, Kenny's shoes were a more comfortable pair of Jordans. Sure they were expensive, but super heroes had to do a lot of running!

"You sick fuck." Mysterion criticized; his heroic voice as intentionally raspy as ever. "You're kidnapping _children_ now, Chaos?!"

"No! Honest, I-I was just - Eric and Wendy needed a babysitter but they wouldn't stop fussing so I-"

Mysterion interrupted. "They're the ones after you. Don't expect me to believe they knew about this."

Butters gulped. "They are? Oh hamburgers I'm in for it now..."

"You want to tell me why there's a bounty on your head the size of Cartman's-" Mysterion eyed the baby and attempted to be more cautious of his language. "-Behind."

Butters' bottom lip quivered. His eyebrows knitted together. He glared toward Mysterion, but not at him. "I can't believe they're callin' people about me. Why, they've got some nerve! I've got half a mind to call child services on _them_! I've practically been raising Lexi here for a month because those two can't stop fighting!"

"So you believe she's yours. You want to take someone else's baby."

"No! I just wanted her to have a real name! They were callin' her 'Baby', Kenny." Butters frowned. "I just...had to do somethin'. I'm sorry I scared Eric and Wendy, but I _had_ to do it this way. Why, if I asked they'd have said 'Shut up, Butters!' and just kept fighting like my parents do. Please, just let me get her home so they can stop worrying."

Mysterion eyed Butters up and down; searching for a tell that he was lying. Not finding one, his fists unclenched and shoulders relaxed. The use of Mysterion's real name also suggested that Butters wasn't in Professor Chaos mode for the moment. "It won't be that easy." Mysterion warned. "They put out a cash reward for your head and Baby's safe return."

"Oh Jesus. Is that why you're here?"

"I could care less about the money. I just know how it feels to want to protect your family. I'm here to get the baby back home and keep _you_ from getting killed."

"Why? Who else is after me?"

The question was answered for him when a nearby manhole cover started to shake, eventually moving away from its place over the hole in the ground. One by one a group of Crab People rose to the earth's surface. Their beady eyes simultaneously fixed onto Lexi. They advanced with outstretched, pinching claws. Increasingly nervous, Butters tightly clutched Lexi and ducked behind Mysterion. Recognizing his enemy, Mysterion grabbed for relevant weaponry inside his utility belt: a crab mallet, and a small packet of old bay seasoning. The hero and villains charged each other; battle ensuing. Butters moved behind a dumpster, but didn't run off. He couldn't now. Not while Mysterion was literally fighting for him. "Oh, cheese and crackers..." Butters 'swore'.

Mysterion's fists swung indiscriminately. Beady crab eyes were blackened. Red crabs were turned black and blue. Old bay seasoning flew into the face of one crab, seemingly putting him down for the night. Mysterion cracked open a few crabs with his mallet before quickly dining on their insides. Such graphic violence made Butters shudder and close his eyes tightly. He opened them again only when he heard Mysterion struggling to defeat the larger number of Crab Persons. Their pinchers locked onto his arms and legs. One especially large crab, perhaps the King Crab of the group, pinched a writhing Mysterion's throat and nose, cutting off his oxygen. "Foolish human! Now we shall procure the child and collect the bounty, making Crab People even richer. Then we shall rent an apartment on the surface world, beginning our plans for world domination much closer to where we need to be! Ahahaha!"

Butters considered putting Lexi down and springing into action himself, but he didn't have to. The night sky became illuminated by a bright flying speck of light. Colorful lasers shot down toward the earth. The King Crab was hit by the beam, followed by his henchmen. Mysterion was freed and resumed the battle, while the flying object spun down to the ground. Closer proximity to the speck of light revealed that it was in fact a space craft. Familiar black eyed aliens exited the ship after it landed, and the alien visitors joined the fight. Their motivation went unexplained since the aliens could only "Moo!" in English.

Butters frowned, looking back at Lexi. "Aw heck, they're after us too?" It got even worse. A distant song grew closer as a second round of creatures rose up from the still-uncovered manhole. Underpants Gnomes emerged from the sewers. They bit at the aliens' ankles and crabs' balls, caring nothing about the size advantage of their adversaries. Other Gnomes attached themselves to Mysterion like leaches; tugging at the underwear portion of his costume.

"You little bastards are supposed to fight for good!" Mysterion criticized.

"We're only Santa's Elves some of the year." a Gnome replied. "With Eric Cartman's ransom we can buy more underpants than we'll know what to do with!"

Gunfire rang out, startling both Butters and Lexi. He did his best to comfort the crying baby while keeping his eyes on the fight. Mysterion didn't seem afraid of the on-going gunfire, which Butters was both scared by and thankful for. As bodies fell and smoke cleared, Butters found that the shots had been fired by a group of Ginger Kids, led by Scott Tenorman. "The only person collecting Eric Cartman's ransom will be me!" Tenorman corrected the Gnome. "His ransom, and then some. I can't wait to see the look on his fat face when he's forced to hand over _all_ his money in exchange for his child."

"I know Cartman hurt you, but two wrongs don't make a right, Scott." Mysterion said, trying to reason with him. "Can't you other Gingers see he's just using you?"

"Shut up!" Tenorman replied. "With my brother's money we can make the world a better place for Gingers. We'll buy Wendy's and change the mascot. Ron Howard will direct all the big Hollywood films. People mock us Gingers. They have the nerve to call us James Holmes. Well who's James Holmes now?!" He fired another round of shots at his various competitors.

South Park Police appeared soon afterward, engaging the Gingers in a massive shootout. A shootout which was ceased when Manbearpig showed up, forcing both sides to turn their combined firepower at the seemingly unstoppable beast. Al Gore arrived next, jumping fearlessly onto Manbearpig's back as gun after gun was unloaded. Mysterion hurled a green, question-mark shaped bomb toward his rogues' gallery, causing an explosion! The Goth Kids arrived next; lighting cigarettes off of the explosion's flame. Before they could even make dark sarcastic remarks, they were attacked from behind by Vamp Kids, the two sides brawling near a destroyed car.

Behind Butters, the dumpster's lid rose up. Butters gasped; fearful of who or what may be coming next. He protectively held Lexi to his chest and braced himself. From the depths of the dumpster, covered in garbage and surrounded by flies, came a homeless man. His grime-covered hand reached out toward Lexi; his dead eyes threateningly staring down Butters. "CHANGE!"

A swift roundhouse kick knocked the homeless man back into the garbage below. The blow had been delivered by a pajama-clad Wendy. A pajama-clad Eric was right behind her, poorly imitating Tony Montana while firing his own gun at the Gingers. Butters just hoped they wouldn't turn their vengeance on him once this was over.

"The hell are you doing?!" Mysterion yelled overtop of the noise.

"Saving your ass!" Cartman replied. "You're welcome, asshole!"

Wendy explained their arrival a bit better. "We weren't going to just sit around while our daughter was missing. If you want something done right, do it yourself. I _told_ Eric not to put out that goddamn ransom notice because it would get the wrong kind of people looking for Baby, but as usual he didn't think enough before acting!"

"I should've thought more before I married _you_. That's what I should've done."

Mysterion tied some rubber bands around a crab's claw. "Can you two do this later?! We have to protect Lexi!"

"Who's Lexi?" the couple asked in unison. Butters nervously shuffled his feet in response.

Wendy delivered a side kick to a Gnome's skull, knocking him loose from Mysterion's uniform. Her foot had come only centimeters from hitting the crotch. Mysterion was never more grateful for Wendy's pinpoint accuracy. Wendy fought on, relying on hand to hand combat until she was able to pick up a discarded gun, using it as a club until she would be able to reload.

"...She's pretty hot, huh?" Cartman muttered admiringly to Mysterion as he watched his kick-ass wife in action.

"No comment." Mysterion knew that there wasn't any response he could give that wouldn't in one way or another get him in trouble. "How'd you know we were here?"

"My alien anal probe works like GPS." Cartman said. "I knew they'd want a piece of my money."

"You still _have_ that probe?"

"_You_ still wear briefs!" Cartman defended.

"Eric? Do you even _have_ the money you offered these people?"

Cartman scoffed. "Fuck no. And they wouldn't get it even if I did."

Mysterion threw a second question mark from his belt, this time toward the Gingers. It didn't explode as the previous had. Instead it emitted a very bright light, causing the sensitive-skinned redheads to scatter. Some totally retreated. Others hid, putting them out of the battle. Scott Tenorman desperately tried applying sun tan lotion to his quickly-burning flesh. Another question mark aimed at the Vamps. It simply broke open, allowing several spiders to escape and crawl onto the intended victims, gnawing at their bodies. A third question mark wrapped around the head of a crab. His claws struggled frantically to remove the device, fearing another bomb. Instead, harmless confetti rained down onto the crab's shoulders once the question mark popped.

"New toys?" Wendy asked.

"Exploding question marks." Mysterion explained with a smile. He was somewhat proud of his idea. "Each is filled with something different to keep the bad guys guessing. Because I'm-"

"Because you're _Mysterion_. Yeah that's _sooo_ fuckin' funny, Kinny!" a jealous Cartman criticized.

Somehow, through all the commotion, Lexi had managed to stop crying. As he watched the violence unfold and his hometown get decimated for what felt like the millionth time, Butters worried he might start balling in Lexi's place. "Oh, Lexi." he sighed. "What kind of world did they bring you into? All the war and fighting and Manbearpigs. On top of that your parents can only stop fighting when you turn up missing. What kind of life are you going to have? How could you possibly grow up okay here? I'll let you in on a little secret: it's reasons like this why I turned to a life of chaos. Sometimes I think maybe the world isn't a beautiful place. If I could just see one nice thing come out of all this trouble, just one, I'd feel a lot better."

Scott Tenorman fired one last shot with the intent to kill. He aimed not at the town's hero who had foiled his numerous schemes, or the half-brother who had caused him years of internal misery, but at the woman whose loss he knew would maximize the other boys' pain.

"LOOK OUT!"

Eric Cartman dove in front of his wife, his larger frame literally taking the bullet that had been meant for her. Mysterion tended to his fallen friend with his first aid materials. While Scott Tenorman ran for cover, a crying Wendy moved to Cartman's side. She held his hand comfortingly, placing a single sweet kiss against his chubby cheek in appreciation for what he had just done.

"He's losing blood." Mysterion reported as the pair of tweezers in his hand struggled desperately to dislodge the bullet from Eric's chest. His cape soaked up what blood it could, but the wound hadn't been closed yet. Cartman's firm grip on Wendy's hand began to weaken; his pulse slowing down.

"_No_! You aren't leaving me." Wendy's statement wasn't a denial about what was happening; it was an angry, tear-filled command into her husband's ear. "You _can't_ leave me! You always say you will but you don't, and you aren't starting now! I won't let you! I'm not raising Baby as a single mother you bastard! _Get up_!" As he grew increasingly unresponsive, Wendy's shrill orders for Eric to stay with her turned into softer, concerned requests. The worst part? Butters knew that Wendy would've survived the shot anyway thanks to her vest.

Butters had gotten his wish. The one good deed he'd hoped to see from humanity. The most inhumane person he knew committed a mostly selfless act. Cartman could've let his supposedly awful wife take the hit and been rid of her for good. He could've let Mysterion play the knight in shining armor role for the damsel in distress. Instead, it was Cartman's instinct to protect his wife, and in turn, his child. Massive ego or not, Butters wagered that deep down Eric knew Wendy was a very capable mother who could make it on her own if she absolutely had to. And, that if Lexi absolutely had to be without one of them, she'd be better off in Wendy's care. Butters promised to be more careful what he wished for in the future.

Wendy retrieved Eric's concealed knife; forcing herself away from his side. There would be time for mourning at the funeral, and the look in Wendy's eyes suggested to both Butters and Mysterion that it would be a double funeral if the possible soon to be widow could help it. "Don't." Mysterion pleaded with her. But, of course, she did. Wendy didn't mind Scott's head start. When hunting another human being a head start was always a courtesy. It didn't stop her from catching him, nor from plunging Eric's knife into Scott's leg, severing the tendon he'd need to get away again. She removed the knife only to look for a better place to fatally plunge it into. Scott twisted and turned to try to avoid being stabbed anywhere crucial. He fought her off with what superior physical strength he had, but Wendy's various non-lethal slashes made Scott resemble a bloody piece of Swiss cheese until the blood loss made it too difficult for him to fight back.

"STOP!"

Butters couldn't take anymore. If Wendy killed Scott, she'd end up in jail. If Cartman died on top of that, Lexi really would be alone, getting raised by Butters full-time. He didn't want that fate for her. Butters slowly approached Wendy with Lexi in his arms. Mysterion discarded the successfully removed bullet, and then quickly worked on crudely stitching Eric up. As expected, Wendy softened just enough at the sight of her baby, realizing the potential consequences for her actions right away. Her foot pressed to a weakened Scott's throat, hesitant to deliver the final blow.

"Wendy, this isn't what she would want. Lexi wants to grow up in a nice world. In a - in a world with loving parents who can be there to take care of her. Who love her _and_ each other, and who don't smack each other around all the darn time!"

"So what if he's not around?" Wendy finally had to admit. "Is that fair to her? What about the fact that this is what _he_ would want me to do." she weakly argued.

"You don't know that."

"It's what I would want." Cartman softly replied from his spot on the ground. Just hearing Cartman's familiar voice again made Wendy smile with relief.

"Hush up, Eric!" Butters said reflexively before realizing that the response meant that Eric was, at best, alive. "Eric!" he happily chirped.

Wendy sighed. Her husband was alive, and Butters made a valid point somewhere among his sap-filled speech about happy children. Defeated, Wendy jabbed the knife's blade into Scott's hand, pinning him where he laid for the police to apprehend. She held out her arms, accepting Lexi from Butters and holding the child near her blood-stained pajama top. The two made their way back to Cartman's side, soon joined by Butters. The three tightly hugged Cartman's large body as Mysterion cleared out the remaining villains.

"What the fuck kinda name is Lexi?" Cartman criticized.

/

"The battle between man and crab person was epic." Butters turned the page of the self-published comic book he was reading Lexi for a bedtime story. "But in the end...Huh?" Butters turned the page back, making sure he hadn't accidentally skipped too far ahead. He turned it forward again, beginning where he'd left off. "But in the end, The Coon showed up and heroically saved the day, and once again, the whole world."

A parka-clad Kenny glared across the baby's crib at a smiling, still bandaged Cartman. "That is _not_ how it happened!"

"It's _my_ comic book, my rules!" Eric replied.

"Honey, you should _really_ consider changing that name." Wendy said. "'Coon' is a racial slur. It's only a matter of time before the African-American community complains and you're forced to change it anyway."

"And maybe _you_ should really consider shutting the fuck up."

Wendy couldn't bring herself to harm Eric's upper body after what he'd put it through for her, so she responded only by stomping on his foot with the intention of breaking a few toes. If Cartman hoped he could get away with figurative murder in the aftermath of his heroism, he was sorely mistaken. "With a name like that, I suppose we got off easy with Lexi." Wendy gave her husband's hand another loving squeeze all the same, which he reluctantly returned after glaring at her for the foot damage.

"Yeah. You still shouldn't have kidnapped her, and we're gonna have to make you pay for that sometime Butters, but for now I'm just glad we're all home safe. Especially you, Lexi Cartman-Testaburger."

"...Why does your name get to go first?" Wendy questioned.

"Because my name's awesome. You can't lead with 'Testaburger'. All the kids would call her Testicleburger."

"And by all the kids, he means the asshole ones like him." Kenny said.

"Shut up you poor piece of shit!"

"See?"

"You don't _own_ me." Wendy said. "The last name Cartman receives automatic negative judgment, much like the last name Hitler."

"My last name is awesome and kewl! Everyone in this _town_ knows my family's name!"

"Yeah, because of your _mom_!"

"...Oh no you didn't, bitch!"

Butters glanced to Kenny knowingly. Kenny glanced back and nodded. They picked up Lexi together as the war of words continued on and the foam-padded baseball bats came out.

"DIVORCE!" was Lexi's second word. It was less of a word and more of a request.

But, as usual, Cartman refused to stay away for long.

The End


	2. orange

The items previously on top of an angrily flipped table now laid strewn about the living room's floor. Shards of broken glass from a once excellent big screen television were forcibly removed from the deepest fibers of the carpeting. Intentionally damaged books from _Mein Kampf_ to Sylvia Plath poetry filled a nearby waste basket beyond its brim. As Cartman vacuumed away some of the destruction, Wendy swept up the rest. They couldn't have their child crawling around a house with sharp, dangerous items all around her. Their debate continued, only now it was slightly more civil.

"What about Testaman?"

"No, sounds too much like Tenorman." Cartman pointed out. "Cartburger?"

"No, sounds like a bad fast food restaurant." Wendy said. "You _would_ want her name to be food related."

"Hey! We said no more personal shots, ho."

"Old habits die hard."

"I didn't see that one, but McClane makes _no_ sense for Lexi's last name."

"You're an idiot." Wendy tried to bite her tongue. She had once again made a potentially fight-escalating personal attack. More importantly though was her internal struggle. Wendy debated with herself whether or not to say out loud what she was next thinking. As usual, she failed to silence her strong voice.

"Besides, it was Gennero."

Cartman smiled at his wife's knowledge of badass movies. He was glad that years of his untraditional Christmas movie viewing around the holidays hadn't been entirely lost on Wendy. It began one December when Eric could no longer take another viewing of _The Grinch Who Stole Christmas_ because he was sick of seeing the Grinch "pussy out" at the end. Thus a new tradition was born. Unusual Christmas-themed films such as _Die Hard_, _P2_, _Batman Returns_, and _Gremlins 2_ became familiar sounds around the Cartman-Testaburger household. The only standard holiday films Eric made exceptions for anymore were _Home Alone_ and _A Christmas Story_; mainly because they were about two conniving boys doing whatever they wanted to get whatever they wanted even if that meant physically hurting other people along the way. Wendy was in no way surprised that her husband found those characters enjoyable.

Cartman tried again. "Testacart?"

"Testacart sounds like a black-market place to buy balls."

Cartman sighed. "Jesus. Wendy, seriously, this could go on forever. Will you please just _give_ me this one? Cartman-Testaburger is alphabetically correct!"

"I don't care! I don't want to give people the idea that I'm _secondary_ in this relationship!"

"They already _know_ you aren't!"

"How?! How could they _possibly_ know that?"

"_Because I don't settle for second best_!"

Wendy paused. It was her turn to smile. Her silence forced Cartman to continue speaking, which he struggled with initially. Expressing his true feelings was never Cartman's strong suit. Still, he knew Wendy well enough to know that when she was rarely quiet in a dispute, it was because she was caught off-guard. In this case, in a good way. That meant he had to pounce while he still had some kind of advantage.

"I don't." Cartman reiterated truthfully. "I don't settle for second at anything, and I never will. Why should I when I know I'm capable of having the best? The best clothes, the best car, the best job…and the best wife."

Wendy put down her broom. She moved toward Cartman; giving him a small hug. "You know, despite all my better judgment, sometimes I really do love you."

"Yeah…."

"Just say it back. You know you want to."

"_You_ know I can't…That I'm not good at…." Cartman fidgeted; twisting out of Wendy's grip.

Frustrated, Wendy shoved at Cartman's chest. "Mushy shit isn't _my_ favorite emotion either but I can still express it when I want to, you unfeeling ass!"

"I feel things!" Eric defended.

"So say it!"

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Well _fine_ if you're gonna force it out of me! …I love you too." He practically muttered the words before enveloping Wendy in a well-cushioned hug. No matter; she knew he'd meant it. His next statement only further confirmed his emotions not just for her, but for their child. "…You can have Testaburger-Cartman."

"Really?" Wendy attempted to restrain her victorious smile.

"Yeah. The Cartman-Testaburger initials are bad anyway. C.T. is another name for…" He shuddered. "Cock-Tease." The idea of anyone referring to his aged-up daughter in such a way was vomit-inducing, as was the general idea of future Lexi doing anything with boys. Ever. "…Where _is_ Lexi?"

"What do you mean?"

"She hasn't cried or anything in hours."

Wendy shrugged. "Kenny and Butters are probably just taking care of…." Wendy paused. A protective maternal chill went up her spine.

Cartman gasped as the realization hit him a moment behind Wendy. He facepalmed. "Son of a bitch! Not again!"

/

Lexi was safe and sound. She occupied Butters' couch with a plastic, colorful toy resting in her hands. A rerun of _Sesame Street_ played on the television in the background behind the protective Kenny and Butters, who stood before her trying to reinforce the show's lessons. Demonstrating for Lexi, Butters tugged at the hood strings of Kenny's parka. "And so _this_ is orange. It's a color _and_ a fruit, b-but I'm not sure which one came first."

"_You're_ a fruit." Kenny muttered. He readjusted his parka; not caring for Butters using him as a child's visual aide.

"_Kenny_!" Butters scolded. "You shouldn't be teachin' Lexi intolerance like that. Besides, you know I love poontang."

Kenny shrugged. "Ah it's fine. She probably hears way worse from Cartman. Personally, I've always figured the color came first."

"How come?"

"There's less of 'em. There are over two-thousand types of fruit known to man, but we can only see about twelve-hundred levels of color in a single viewing. Unless time and frequencies are continuous values; then there are an uncountable number of colors. But the jury's still out on that one. So with what we know I figure that eventually the naming people got tired, said 'fuck it', and named the fruit after something else that already existed to save time."

"Wow! You're awful smart, Kenny."

"I read a lot." When one was more or less immortal, one had a lot of time on their hands to study and learn new things.

"But your theory is flawed."

"Why?"

"Well, how come other fruits aren't named after colors then?"

"They are. Blackberries, blueberries, peaches, green tomatoes, black olives…."

"Yeah, but a banana isn't called a yellow, and there's lotsa different kinds of colored grapes and apples. Not to mention the grapefruit. Those naming people could've been just as lazy and named colors after fruits if they're over there namin' fruits after other fruits."

"Touche." Kenny scooped up Lexi in his arms. "You think they're done fighting yet? I'll bring her home. Better the heat be on me than you."

"N-no I'll take her. I couldn't ask you to be in trouble for me."

"You're already in trouble." Kenny reminded him. "Better we both be than you in trouble twice."

"Nuh-uh!" Butters maturely argued. "If we're both in trouble there won't be anyone left to babysit Lexi." That much was true. Stan vanished a few years ago; consumed by alcoholism, and no way was Cartman going to let Kyle into his home to help raise his child. "Besides you should want me to be in bigger trouble."

"I should? Why's that?"

"Because if your plan works it means Professor Chaos won't be out on the streets wreaking havoc."

Kenny tried not to laugh. Wreaking havoc? Yeah, sure, that was one way of putting it. Still, Kenny indulged his friend. "I thought Chaos hadn't been out for a while."

"He hasn't been." Butters confirmed. "I've been taking my medicine like doctor says, b-but he says I'm still a ticking time bomb ready to explode in a, uh, in a fiery rage at any minute. It'd still be one less villain for Mysterion to worry about though, and that could come in handy after last night."

"Well, by that logic, _you_ should want Mysterion staying home too." Kenny argued.

"I do." Butters grinned mischievously. "Then the town will be without its precious hero and have to fend for itself for a change."

Kenny considered their options. "Okay, we'll rock, paper, scissors for it." He put Lexi back down and prepared to engage in a much calmer, more unusual type of battle than he was used to. It was perhaps a bit silly, especially considering the "winner" was the one who got to face the wrath of Eric and Wendy, but it was far from the worst way to resolve a dispute. If the rest of the world settled its arguments through a quick rock, paper, scissors, there could be Middle Eastern peace and the next US President would be decided without months of half-honest attack ads from both sides. Lexi sat back; watching curiously as the best of three rounds played out.

Kenny won.

/

"Alfred? Come in, Alfred."

"It's _Kyle_, asshole!"

Kenny grinned. "Mysterion can't patrol tonight. Fill in for me?"

"What? Why not? What'd you do?"

"Won a game. I've got to babysit tonight." Kenny paid no mind to Kyle's exasperated huff on the other end of the phone.

"Ugh, fine, I'll turn on the surveillance. But if you call me a sidekick name again, I swear-"

"Thanks Jarvis."

"_Kenny_! Just because I help you out sometimes, that does _not_ make me your sidekick!"

"Do you or do you not have a Human Kite super hero costume in your closet?"

"…Yes, but-"

"See? Sidekick."

"_Goddammit_!"

Kenny hung up before Kyle could go on an extended rant about the majority of his involvement with Mysterion being behind the scenes. Which was true, but it was just so much fun to fluster the guy. Smiling, Kenny glanced toward Lexi out of his peripheral vision. "Sweet, I found someone to cover for me." Lexi didn't care; too preoccupied in her car seat with some shiny toy to worry about Kenny's night shift problems. When they arrived home Kenny made sure to park with the front of his car facing outward so that he could make a quick getaway, which he was almost certain he'd have to do. He laughed to himself as he carried Lexi in front of him like some kind of literal human shield. For a super hero he sure was acting like a giant pussy, and the irony of that wasn't lost on Kenny's sense of humor one bit. As he knocked, he wondered which parent would greet him at the door. He wasn't sure if Eric or Wendy would be worse.

"You son of a-"

"_Baby_!" Kenny finished for Cartman. It was a quick reminder to neither swear nor punch Kenny in his overexposed face.

Cartman accepted Lexi. The death glare he gave his friend didn't match the happiness he felt internally to have his daughter back home. Again. "Fuck. You." Cartman replied; emphasizing every word he spoke. "You don't tell me how to raise my kid or how to talk in my own house. You goddamn. Fucking. Asshole. Ball-licking. Shithead. Jizz expert." Cartman attempted to leave it at that and slam the door in Kenny's face, but Kenny wedged his foot in the door frame in time before inviting himself inside.

"Well if you don't want me and Butters raising her, you guys better start."

"The hell does that mean? We're awesome parents."

"You're half-right. You're both smart and successful, and at least Wendy's genes are probably great. In that sense Lexi will turn out awesome. But you and Wendy have to stop fighting with each other long enough to raise her and teach her things and stuff. _My_ parents fought too and look how I turned out."

"Oh, yeah, we wouldn't want Lexi becoming a super hero would we?" Eric sarcastically replied.

"I'm referring to the white trash aspect of my personality."

"_Ah-ha_!" Cartman pointed accusingly at Kenny. "So you finally _admit_ you're poor white trash?"

Kenny sighed. "For the purposes of this example? Sure."

Cartman snickered. "You hear that, Lexi? Don't listen to this pov. Any day now he'll have you on a street corner holding a 'Help Us' sign for his change scam."

"Fuck you! I only use kids to score kid's meals for myself at fast food chains."

Cartman laughed. "Really? Goddamn you're poor."

Kenny glared. He headed for the kitchen; deciding to grab a snack if he had to put up with Eric's teasing. "Be that as it may, me and Butters are gonna keep taking her if you and Wendy don't get your shit together. Butters is close to calling child services and then she'll be Lexi Stotch. Is that what you want?"

"Is that what _you_ want?" Cartman replied. He raised his eyebrows at Kenny suspiciously. "Two kidnappings? You two sure seem to like being her parents."

"I _can't_ go all _My Two Dads_ with him on this. Conflict of interests. But I also can't hold him back for much longer. So please, if you love Lexi, and I _know_ you do, get it together. Okay?"

"Don't you think we're trying?" Cartman raided the fridge behind Kenny. He did a quick mental inventory of what items Kenny had removed. Eric didn't trust Kenny not to steal all his food, and being that close to the refrigerator made the temptation to eat too strong. Some bread and related toppings and condiments for sandwich construction were the only things missing. Cartman opted for a sandwich as well, but fetched a bottle of milk for Lexi while he was at it. "Wendy just knows how to push my buttons."

"I'm sure the feeling's mutual."

Cartman layered varying meats and cheeses between oversized slices of unhealthy bread. The mountainous creation threatened to spill over if Eric failed to fit it all into his equally large mouth. "You know, you have some set of balls on you. Coming in here and threatening to take my kid after you kidnapped her. You owe us. The both of you."

"I know. So, I won't be patrolling tonight. I'll watch her, here, and you two can relax."

"Fuck that! You should be _our_ bitch. Me and Wendy were the ones suffering."

"You're also the one who put out that ad and caused the destruction of the town."

"I put out that ad thanks to Butters being a literal cradle robber, and I helped _save_ the town, thank you very much. You two don't get to decide how we punish you for fucking us over, Kenny. That's bullshit."

"Yeah we do, because you two are merciless and the payback wouldn't be normal."

"You _stole_ our _daughter_. The payback _should_ be severe." Cartman argued through a mouthful of sandwich.

"Borrowed." Kenny argued. "We borrowed Lexi so she wouldn't have to hear and see her parents fighting again." Kenny quickly downed his own sandwich: a thin BLT. It was just enough to get him through a few hours. Eating only what he needed to at that moment became a force of habit to Kenny after years of malnutrition and occasional starvation. Of _course_ Eric had completely dismissed the idea of lettuce, tomato, or any other vegetable as a part of his sandwich. "Here's the deal: you get another free babysitter, or next time I load Lexi up with sugar and teach her swear words before I send her home. Swear words Wendy would most likely blame _you_ for."

"…I hate you, Kenny."

"No you don't. I've got the necklace to prove it." Kenny reached into a pocket of his parka; tauntingly displaying his half of a 'Best Friends Forever' necklace.

/

Kyle quickly tapped his keyboard, causing the images displayed on his laptop's screen to rapidly change. Different hidden cameras at various angles stretched across the entire town of South Park, giving Kyle a quick virtual tour of the best and worst parts of the city. It was actually rather impressive. Though Kyle manned the network, it was Kenny who had set the cameras in place. It must've taken a while, Kyle reasoned, but he wasn't sure where or when Kenny had found the time to do it all.

To the trained eye, the cameras showed that crime appeared to be declining for the time being. Crab People retreated back to the sewers. The Underpants Gnomes were seen moving north in preparation for the upcoming Christmas season. The Goths and Vamp Kids hung out at their usual locations: coffee shops, cemeteries, and funeral homes, but no trouble was caused besides being annoying and whiny. Perhaps some after-hours trespassing at the graveyard, but that minor technical crime wasn't worth Mysterion's time these days. Gingers were the only noticeable immediate threat. They met in dark alleyways, inside caves, and other places which allowed them to avoid the sunlight. The fact that they were meeting logically meant that they were plotting something. What it was Kyle couldn't yet say. Then there were the town's Homeless. Traditionally as the cooler months settled in the Homeless of South Park became scarce. Pan handlers settled into shelters and other warm climates to avoid the incoming snow. Kyle watched a practical hobo army march single file into a shelter which was advertising free soup while supplies lasted. He chose to momentarily monitor that group in case some kind of homeless riot broke out over whatever reheated _Campbells_ they were likely serving. Then Kyle spotted one disheveled citizen who actually piqued his interest.

Stan

Kyle forced his eyes to remain on the screen, but it was tough to watch. With his heart aching inside his chest, Kyle zoomed the camera in and out a few times to make sure that it was indeed his best friend with the tangled black hair and new unkempt beard. Kyle wished it was someone else in that position, then immediately felt guilty for having such a thought. No one deserved to end up like that. "Oh, Stan…." A disappointed Kyle muttered to himself. "You were a football star. Everyone liked you. You didn't have to do this. How could you do this to yourself?"

That answer soon became obvious. Stan discreetly produced a miniature bottle of vodka from his stained jacket's pocket, sneaking in a sip as he waited in the soup line. A sip turned into a gulp, and all too quickly the liquid was completely gone. Kyle only grew angrier watching Stan down his mini bottle. Deciding he couldn't take any more, Kyle pushed on with the business at hand and switched the camera view back to the Gingers.

Scott Tenorman had taken over an empty building whose entire land was for sale. Blackout curtains concealed the inside, save for the decorative, threatening visual of a single _Chucky_ doll with attached suction cups clinging to one lone window. The camera's attached microphone couldn't make out any clear audio from its current distance, but Kyle recognized Scott's amplified voice filling a room. The cheers of what Kyle assumed were Scott's fellow Gingers followed occasional statements. He was rallying them for something all right. A female spoke next, which again caused Kyle's attention to increase. He couldn't recall any women in Scott's Ginger army. Had they gained a new recruit?

Kyle's stomach growled; distracting him. He checked his phone. It was past dinner time. No surprise. He often missed meals when he had to cover for Kenny. Kyle considered ordering some pizza and eating it right at his desk straight out of the delivery box. He still had a few hours to go at his desk before it was likely safe to turn in for the night, so cooking wasn't an option. Then, Kyle's mind guiltily wandered back to Stan. What was _he_ having for dinner? Had he managed to score any soup, or was it another night of an all-liquid diet? Kyle changed camera views again, going back to the shelter.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Stan digging into a fresh bowl of chicken noodle.

/

_Third time's the charm_

The note's short message, comprised of colorful letters cut out from various magazines and newspapers, wasn't especially clear. The large singular bullet placed on Butters' front doorstep directly underneath the note's message, on the other hand, couldn't have been misunderstood. Butters gulped nervously. His widened eyes frantically scanned from left to right in search of whoever had left the threatening sheet of paper. They were gone. Only their warning remained. Butters took out his phone. He forced his shaking hands to steady so that he could take pictures of the evidence, should he turn up missing. He considered dialing the police, but quickly reconsidered. Bad guys always hated it when one involved police, and Professor Chaos would be ashamed of such a cowardly maneuver. So who to call? Mysterion? No, Kenny's babysitter plan had worked. He'd have his hands full. Lexus? Best Butters tell her he loved her before he potentially got shot. No. According to her Facebook, Lexus was working the late shift and couldn't be disturbed. That left only one person he could think of to notify.

"_Eric_! _Eric_!"

Cartman only sighed into his phone; uninterested in Butters' panic. "What, bro?"

"There's a – oh jeez – there's a threatening note on my door! And a – and a bullet on my doorstep!"

"Oh. Yeah Wendy did that." Cartman mentioned casually.

"…_What_?"

"She was pissed off about you taking Lexi. Don't do it again. Can't you read?"

Butters looked back at the note. _Third time's the charm_. He'd taken Lexi twice thus far. Yeah, okay. "But, but Eric I was just tryin' to help."

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." Wendy said.

"Gimme back the phone, bitch! It's _my_ phone call!" Cartman complained from the background.

"Wendy, please, I just wanted to protect her. My parents were always hollerin' and it messed me up pretty darn good."

"Are you suggesting my daughter is psychologically damaged?"

Butters cringed at his poor choice of words. "Uh…N-no I just-"

"Kenny is babysitting here to make it up to us. What are _you_ going to do?"

"Huh? Well, I was thinkin' I could do the same thing."

"Eric may have been stupid enough to fall for that offer-"

"I _told_ you, Kenny threatened to teach Lexi bad words!"

"So? You shouldn't bow to threats so easily!" Wendy criticized before returning her attention to the phone call. "As I was saying, Eric may have bought that, but I don't. Think of something else you can do to make this up to us. Until then, I don't want to see you around my daughter."

Wendy hung up before Butters could even reply. Still fearful despite Wendy's lack of physical presence, Butters hurried inside while he could still walk.

/

Kenny skimmed the family's bookshelf for something to read to Lexi. Cartman's line of self-published comic books was now the most prominent item on display after Cartman and Wendy had destroyed a good chunk of each other's literature. Kenny settled on a Halloween-themed adventure: _The_ _Coon Saves Fort Collins_. It made sense; Fort Collins was considered to be one of the most haunted parts of Colorado. Still, the title made Kenny's eyebrows rise. He and Eric had been to Fort Collins one Halloween. Not only was the trip an unpleasant experience, but while there they hadn't experienced any supernatural activities or run-ins with monsters. Perhaps it was just coincidence? Perhaps Cartman was simply looking for a way to stick it to Fort Collins through his profession? Kenny read to find out. As he curiously flipped the comic's pages, he showed Lexi the colorful illustrations and read to her the various panels' dialogue. He knew it was likely futile. Lexi had been talking at three months old. She'd be critiquing full-length novels in no time just as Kyle's brother Ike had in his youth. Finally, Kenny came upon a panel that stopped his bed time story cold.

"_What the fuck!_"

In one panel's lower right corner laid a crying Mysterion. He was curled up in a fetal position with his thumb firmly implanted into his mouth. Tears ran out of his reddened, saddened eyes. In the foreground, The Coon was successfully fighting off a very stereotypical group of Hispanic gang members. Dryly, Kenny read the story's thrilling conclusion to Lexi. "The Boricua Boyz surrendered the town's stolen candy supply to The Coon, who bravely inspected it for razor blades with his mouth." Kenny openly groaned. How was this stupid thing selling so well?! He kissed Lexi goodnight, then sought out Cartman in order to set a few things straight.

Cartman was once again fighting with Wendy in the living room, so Kenny would just have to get in line. The argument was no surprise, but this time – thankfully - the fight was at least somewhat about Lexi's well-being. So far things were even non-violent. Kenny hoped against hope that perhaps the earlier talk had somewhat reached Cartman after all.

"_Hell no_! She's being Susan Doyle!" Wendy said. 

"No one but you knows who that is!" 

"_That's_ the problem! Our daughter will be well-educated unlike the majority of this town!"

Kenny whistled; drawing the couple's combined attention. "Before you wake Lexi up, you wanna tell me what this is about? Maybe get a second opinion?"

"Eric wants Lexi to be that stupid queen from the movie _Frozen_ for Halloween."

"You know what's gonna happen if she's _not_ Queen Elsa? The other kids are gonna think she's weird and not kewl. They won't wanna trick or treat with her. That means she'll have to go with us, making her even less kewl, and then she'll be a target for bullies. The other kids will push her down and steal her candy just like…." Cartman paused.

"Just like what?"

Eric turned his back to Wendy. "Forget it."

"…Just like what happened to you." Kenny softly finished for him.

"Shut up, Kinny!"

"What happened?"

"_Nothing_!" Cartman angrily insisted.

"_Shut up_!" Wendy turned to Kenny. "What happened!" She demanded to know more than asked the second time. Kenny knew better than to test her interrogation skills.

"One year when we were kids, we went to Fort Collins for Halloween. We trick or treated and we ran into some older kids. They pushed Cartman down-"

"I _tripped_!"

"Yeah, whatever." Kenny said dismissively. "They pushed Cartman down and stole his candy. They said the fat kid didn't need any more of it." He stopped the story momentarily to glare at Cartman. "They were white kids by the way; _not_ Hispanic like in your comic book!"

Cartman slowly turned back around to face Kenny and Wendy. "You read that?"

Kenny waved the comic in his hand. "Every word, and it's mostly _bullshit_! I was _not_ crying in a fucking corner! I was saving your ass! I jumped in, kicked their asses, got _my_ ass kicked for fighting when I got home, and the next day you gave me some of your candy as a thank you gesture."

"_I only gave you the crappy candy I didn't want_!"

"_Like hell you did_!"

"_Enough_!" Wendy screeched. "Look Eric, I'm sorry you got bullied, and it's sweet you're trying to protect Lexi, but any daughter of _mine_ is going to know how to defend herself. No one is going to push her around."

"Oh she's _your_ daughter, huh? We're gonna play that game again? Well then, why don't you tell _your_ daughter about that time you totally sold Stan out to win that tub of candy? Which you _donated_ to some starving kids bullshit. I'm telling you right now: Lexi is _not_ donating her candy! You aren't ruining my second-favorite holiday with charity! Kids are meant to dress up as kewl characters and eat candy on Halloween, and you aren't taking _my_ daughter's childhood from her, Wendy!" 

"Don't be stupid-oh wait." 

Cartman gritted his teeth, but stuck to his point. "You totally sold out Stan to be the popular Chewbacca costume, and it _worked_! You _won_! You of _all_ people should understand about this."

"I did that to achieve a specific goal. It was strategy for a costume contest. Lexi's only goal will be having fun. She could wear a box – something you also know about – and she'd have just as much fun. Therefore you don't have to push the mainstream crap so hard. Let her dress up as a strong, intelligent, original character, like Susan!"

"What happened to Stan, hm? One minute he's thinking outside the box being Raggedy Andy, next minute he has a drinking problem. I'm just sayin'." 

"Blaming me for Stan's alcoholism? That's low, even for you."

"Oh I'm not blaming you. I'm blaming independent thought. Stan's an example of what happens when you _don't_ just go with the system. You, a winner, are an example of what happens when you do. ...I mean, you probably _did_ contribute to Stan's alcoholism, but that's another issue. So! I'm gonna go get her that overpriced dress before the store sells out of 'em. Be back at nine. I expect my dinner at nine o'five so you'd better get that in the oven now." 

"If you set one foot outside that door, I will choke you with your own tie. You think I'm kidding? Then you don't know me very well." 

Cartman blinked. Wendy didn't. Kenny simply watched with an amused expression on his face. He didn't even feel like yelling at Cartman now. Wendy was going to torture him enough for the both of them. Cautiously Cartman took a step toward the front door in order to gauge a reaction from his wife. The reaction wasn't good, so his foot moved back as if he'd yanked it away from boiling hot pool water.

"...On second thought, perhaps I'll just...order it online. Because _I_ want to; _not_ because you threatened me!" 

Wendy cocked a daring eyebrow at Cartman; her hands poised on her hips. "You're going to _what_ now?" 

Cartman glared more intensely; refusing to be punked out in his own house in front of his friend. "I _said_ I'm ordering that goddamn costume!" 

"Oh is _that_ what you said? I'm sorry; _I_ thought you said, 'I like getting laid on a regular basis.'" 

Cartman paused. He looked to Kenny for backup, but Kenny could only shrug in response. "That's not...Dude you can't do that. You have...You have wifely duties to fulfill. That's a thing. I could divorce you for that."

"Are you really going to try to lecture your feminist, lawyer wife about divorce procedures? Let alone challenge her to one?" 

Eric knew he could also threaten to cheat on a potentially non-intimate partner, but even the implication of such a thing would be suicidal. Without that card to play, he was stuck. "Bitch." Eric muttered. The defeated pout had already formed on his face.

Per Eric's previous request, Wendy headed off to the kitchen to start making dinner. It was the closest Cartman was going to get to a victory tonight.

It was the only thing Cartman was going to get tonight.


End file.
